


Chocolate Milk

by Willaphyx



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, awkward bar encounters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willaphyx/pseuds/Willaphyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on Tumblr: “yes, i know this is a bar but you’re a rlly hot bartender and i panicked and said “cHOCOLATE MILK” when you asked me what i wanted to drink, now i just want to crawl away and hide forever” au pls</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What can I get you, milady?”

Clarke looked up into the way-too-close-to-her-face face of the really really really hot bartender.

“Uh.”

She had suddenly forgotten how to speak. Naturally. Because Clarke didn’t run into all that many extremely hot men with bronzed skin and hair that looked that good.

In her defense, Clarke hadn’t been out in what felt like months (but actually might have been longer). Her residency was slowly killing her and on her first night to herself in what was at least eight months, she had decided that what she really needed was to go out and get drunk.

To hell with the fact that she had be at the hospital again tomorrow morning at six AM and no doubt would have a raging hangover. She needed to be able to forget for a night that there were people depending on her for their lives. Because otherwise she was going to lose her mind. More than she already had anyway.

So that brought her to The Dropship, the new bar that had opened up in town since the last time Clarke had been able to consider going out and having fun. Her best friend and ex-roommate Raven (who had moved out once Clarke’s work schedule had gotten too crazy for her) was always going on and on about it. And, now that she thought about it, the extremely hot bartender who worked weeknights.

Clarke should have remembered that. Because clearly this was him.

“Uh,” she said again.

He leaned on the bar and dammit why was he doing that and why did his biceps have to look that good.

“You all right there, princess?” There was a smile on his face and Clarke felt like melting into the floor would be a better alternative to whatever the hell was going on here.

“Yes?”

“Then what can I get you to drink?” A wider smile.

Fuck, what did she drink again? Clarke was no stranger to alcohol or to bars for that matter. Most people didn’t expect it but med school was full of ragers. You put that many stressed out, sexually frustrated 20-somethings into four years of extremely intensive schooling with no other outlet and you get lots of wild parties. But for some reason, now Clarke was drawing the biggest blank on alcohol in general not to mention what she liked to drink.

She wished the bar was more full because then maybe he would be off trying to help someone else, waiting for the dumb girl to come up with what she wanted, instead of still standing there, still way too close to her face, waiting for her to say it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Oh, no. Now he looked concerned. Maybe she could just get up and walk out. She’d never come back to this bar ever. She’d never see him again. He didn’t know her name. She’d always just be the weird blonde chick who might have been semi-mute.

But no, she was Clarke Griffin and she was not going to be shocked into speechlessness by a guy who probably would have been better off on the cover of GQ not wearing a shirt than behind a bar.

She took a deep breath. She was going to form a complete sentence. And she was going to sound like a normal, breathing, sophisticated human being when she did it. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she said. “I’ve just had a really long day. Week. Month. Couple of months.” She paused. “Year?”

He chuckled. “Uh-huh? Well, what can I get for the lady who’s had a long year?”

Dammit, he was funny, too. This was all going downhill. She should have just gone to the liquor store around the corner and drunk an entire bottle of wine herself in front of Sex & the City reruns. This had been a terrible idea.

“Chocolate milk,” she blurted out, suddenly.

The words seemed to hit him at the same time that she realized what she’d said. If she thought she wanted to sink into the floor before, now she really wanted to.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “I’m sorry, I–”

When she looked back up at him, he had a hand pressed to his mouth and his shoulders were shaking. He was laughing, she realized. At her.

“Excuse me? Are you laughing at me?”

He lowered his hand and wiped at his eye. “Sorry, that…that was a new one.” He was directing a full-blown smile at her now, and he leaned across the bar, as if they were conspirators in on some kind of secret (Clarke would be lying if she said she didn’t like the sound of that) “Unfortunately we don’t have any chocolate milk. Is there something else I can get you?”

“You call yourself a fine drinking establishment and you don’t have any chocolate milk?” she demanded. “I’ll have to write an angry Yelp review immediately.”

He laughed. “Well, my name’s Bellamy if you want to write me up specifically.”

She looked up from her fake Yelp review when it sunk in that he’d given her his name. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to include it.” She flashed him a small smile. Where had all this confidence come from? Don’t get her wrong, she still wanted to slide off the stool and crawl into a corner and die there, but at least he wasn’t looking at her like she had three heads anymore.

In fact, he was looking at her like she might be interesting, worth getting to know. That definitely wasn’t going to do anything good for her confidence. Clarke couldn’t remember the last time anyone, especially someone of the opposite sex, had looked at her like that. That was probably because she hadn’t been out of the house in anything except scrubs or sweatpants in at least six months, but hey, she was busy.

And she definitely was not wearing scrubs or sweatpants. And Bellamy was definitely taking notice of it.

“Do I get your name?” There was a sincerity in his voice that made Clarke want to melt. But in a different way.

Her eyes flashed back up to his. There was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips that just barely brought out the dimples in his cheeks.

“Why?” she asked sweetly. “Is there a yelp for terrible customers?”

He laughed hard at that one. “You, princess, are funny,” he said. “Now for real, what can I get you? On the house.”

Oh, excellent. Her awkwardness was getting her free drinks from insanely hot bartenders now. Raven was going to get a kick out of this one.

“Jack and Coke.”

“Right away.”

The glass was in front of her in seconds and it was delicious. She had half-hoped that he’d be bad at mixing drinks because then she wouldn’t feel bad for never coming back. Because obviously after this disaster of an evening she wasn’t.

He flitted off to help another set of customers after that, leaving Clarke alone to nurse her drink and admire the play of his muscles under his shirt (because who has she kidding, really). Then he was back, another smile that made Clarke’s stomach flip just a bit on his lips.

“All right?” he asked, nodding to her drink.

She nodded as she chugged the rest of it back. “Perfect.”

“Good.” A long pause during which they just stared. Clarke felt heat rising in her cheeks. “Well, let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will,” she said.

He nodded and rapped his knuckles on the bar before disappearing again.

He appeared seemingly out of thin air when she slid off her stool. He waved off the money she tried to offer him. “On the house remember?” And a shy smile.

Damn. That was adorable.

“Right. Well, thanks?”

“Anytime, princess.”

They both hovered there awkward.

“I work tomorrow, too,” he said finally, almost quietly, like he wasn’t sure why he was saying it.

“I work,” Clarke said, almost too quickly.

A line appeared between his eyebrows. “All night?”

“I’m a surgical resident,” she explained.

“Ah.”

Another long pause. “I’m off on Saturday?” she offered.

“I don’t work.”

“Oh.”

“But I can still buy you a drink.” He smiled, hopeful.

“Yeah, okay,” she said in a rush, feeling her own smile take over her face. “I’d like that.”

He nodded once, like he was reassuring himself that it had happened. “Good. Okay. Saturday.”

“Yeah,” she said around her smile. “Saturday.”

“Wait!” he called after her when she was halfway to the door. She turned. “I don’t even know your name?”

She fought back another smile as she said, “look under the glass.”

She heard his surprised laugh at her messily scribbled name and phone number on the napkin as she pushed out the door.

Saturday, she told herself. Saturday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her briefly on the cheek. Her skin burned where his lips had touched. “You look great.”
> 
> She bit her lip to keep her smile under control. “Thanks,” she said as she sat across from him and took in the casual button down rolled up to his elbows, and dark-washed jeans that he was wearing. “So do you.”

Clarke really wished that she could say she waited patiently and with an air of casual disinterest for Saturday and her date (was it a date?) with Bellamy. She wished she could say she was a mature 20-something who didn’t get butterflies in the pit of her stomach when she thought about the hot bartender who somehow had not been completely turned off by her making the world’s biggest fool out of herself.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

“Jesus Christ, Clarke,” Raven exclaimed, throwing herself off Clarke’s bed. “You’re not going to a ball. Just put on something nice.”

Clarke stuck her head out of her closet, where it had been buried for the last thirty minutes going through ever article of clothing that she had.

“None of it’s good enough!” she protested. “I can’t go looking like crap.”

“Clarke, babe, just calm down, okay? You don’t look like crap. You look fine.”

They both looked down at Clarke’s paint-stained sweatpants and baggy t-shirt.

“Okay,” Raven amended. “Maybe you do, right now, but we both know that you have plenty of nice clothes.” She gently pushed Clarke to the side and started going through her hangers.

She pulled out a couple skirts and some fancier tops and threw them on the bed then surveyed the options. “Where’s that black dress you bought last year with O?”

Clarke stared at her, mouth slightly open. “I can’t wear that! I don’t want to look like a hooker!”

“Clarke, come on. You want to look hot or what? Anyway, it’s not that bad.”

Clarke grumbled and dug into the back of her closet where she kept the clothes she rarely wore, and pulled it out. She bit her lip. “Fine,” she acquiesced. “But if this going bad I’m blaming you.”

Raven grinned. “Good. Now go take a shower. I’ll do your hair.”

 

The bar was close to bursting, which she should have been expecting, since it was a Saturday and all. There also was DJ, which she hadn’t been expecting. She was momentarily overwhelmed by the crowd and pulsing (but tasteful?) music and took a moment to collect herself, scanning the crowd for Bellamy.

She located the mop of hair that had already become familiar to her sitting at a hightop table, staring into the depths of a half-finished beer, the smallest of smiles on her face.

Something in her stomach twisted and she took a deep breath before starting in the direction of the table.

“Hey,” she said when she reached it, reaching out to touch his shoulder just briefly after a moment of hesitation.

He looked up and his face split into a grin that only grew wider and more astonished when he looked her up and down.

Suddenly she was pretty glad Raven had forced her into the dress and one of her nicer pairs of stilettos.

“Hey,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her briefly on the cheek. Her skin burned where his lips had touched. “You look great.”

She bit her lip to keep her smile under control. “Thanks,” she said as she sat across from him and took in the casual button down rolled up to his elbows, and dark-washed jeans that he was wearing. “So do you.”

He looked down and laughed a bit, embarrassed. “I did dress up for you.”

Her hand reached across the table of its own accord to press against his forearm. “So did I,” she admitted sheepishly.

He smiled again then cleared his throat. “So what will the lady be having? Unfortunately the bar has not yet acquired chocolate milk.”

She laughed and hung her head. When she looked back up he was grinning widely.

“Still not a fine drinking establishment?” she asked, her voice coming out much more bold than she felt.

He smiled and chuckled. “I guess not. Another Jack and Coke?”

“Sure,” she said, smiling. “Here let me--”

“Don’t worry about it. I know the bartender.” He flashed her a grin and then wove his way through the crowd to the bar, where he conversed lightly with the guy behind the bar.

She took the moment to text Raven an update on the situation and to fan herself slightly. She had this. He was just another cute guy. She’d done this before.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Bellamy sliding the glass towards her. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, taking a sip. He was watching her carefully. “Not as good as yours but still good,” she told him around a smile.

He laughed. “Don’t tell Miller that.” But he was smiling, too.

She took another sip of her drink. “Is it usually this busy on weekends?”

He nodded. “Yup. Miller and Monty, the DJ, they’re saints. I don’t know how they put up with this much traffic.”

“So you just work weeknights?”

He nodded again. “This job is paying for my Ph.D. so yeah, I need the weekends to work on my dissertation.” He flashed her another smile.

She sat up straighter. “What are you studying?”

“Classical history. Greece and Rome specifically.”

“That’s specific.”

He shrugged. “They’re fascinating civilizations.”

She nodded slowly. “My parents took me to Italy when I graduated from college. It was incredible, I loved it.”

He smiled softly. “It’s a beautiful country.” They lapsed into a silence for a minute before he said, “And you? You’re a surgical resident? That’s grueling.”

“Tell me about it,” she grumbled. “Exhausting. But I love it. It’s one of the few jobs where you can really see yourself making a difference in the world, you know?”

“Absolutely. Are you looking at any specializations?”

“Pediatrics.”

He whistled. “I bet that’s tough sometimes.”

“There are bad days,” she admitted. “But there’s nothing more satisfying than saving a child’s life.”

He studied her for a long minute. She felt her cheeks redden under his gaze. “You, Clarke Griffin, are something.”

She smiled and ducked her head again.

“Dance with me?” he asked, holding out a hand.

She looked from his eyes to his outstretched hand back to his eyes. Then she drained her glass. “I’d love to.”

He kissed the back of her hand when she took his and she laughed. The smile on his face was infectious as he led her out onto the dance floor.

 

Later when she came in her front door at around 1:30 in the morning, her heels in hand, hair in a disarray, and the ghost of Bellamy’s goodbye kiss on her lips, she found Raven on the couch, surfing through terrible soap operas and late night comedy.  
She sat up as Clarke dropped her shoes and closed the door.

“So?” Raven asked. “How was it?”

Clarke smiled. “Magical.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come cry with me on [Tumblr?](http://maytheymeeetagain.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry with me on [Tumblr?](maytheymeeetagain.tumblr.com)


End file.
